


Strawberry Wine

by iamthemagicks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthemagicks/pseuds/iamthemagicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Singer meets Dean Winchester when he’s seventeen and Dean has come to work for his father for the summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song Stawberry Wine, by Deana Carter. A warning, this mostly fluffy, especially by the end, my apologies.

Castiel watched from the front porch of his house at a classic car speeding down the driveway, kicking up dust. Faintly, he heard rock music blaring, the windows all rolled down. The screen door opened and closed and his father came out, drying his hands on a dishtowel. “Must be John’s boy,” Bobby muttered, glancing out at the top of the car just visible over the line of growing corn.

“Who?”

“Winchester. Old army buddy. Dean’s gonna help out around here this summer.”

Bobby hurt his back earlier in the year, hauling scrap metal in the back. Along with the farm (which wasn’t really much of a farm, just enough to take to the market a few times a month), he ran a salvage yard and while Castiel was at school, and his mother, Ellen, was at work at the bar, Bobby threw out his back and he was still walking with the cane. 

“I could help,” Cas pointed out. Sure he was on the scrawny side, not as strong as his sister, Jo, but he did his part.

“You gotta work on your school stuff.”

Big plans for Harvard, his parents couldn’t be more proud, but he was starting to buckle under the pressure. Memorizing theorems and equations, old Greek poetry, and Latin. He hated Latin. Bobby rubbed his shoulders before walking to the edge of the porch as the car, black as ink, gleaming in the hot summer sun, slowed and stopped on the gravel driveway.

The music ceased and out stepped Dean Winchester. Tall and light haired, sunglasses as black as his car, covering his eyes. He smiled wide, showing all his teeth. “Bobby,” he said as he walked up the stairs.

They shook hands. “My God you really look like your mother, boy.”

Dean’s smile faltered for a second, but he just shrugged. “Better her than the old man,” he added with a laugh.

“I’ll say,” Bobby agreed. He pulled at Castiel, almost dragging him off his feet. “This is my boy, Castiel.”

“Hey,” Dean said while shaking Castiel’s hand too.

Castiel felt like his skin was on fire, and he wasn’t even standing in the sun. “Hi,” he muttered back, feeling tiny and more like a kid than he ever had before, despite the growth spurt that he hit last summer and that his voice had changed. Dean was tall, skinny, but toned, with a Hollywood smile and a strong hand. He held on a little longer than expected and Dean just kept grinning.

“Come on in,” Bobby said. “Give you the grand tour.” He rolled his eyes. Ellen like to keep the place as nice as she could get it, but Bobby was messy, especially since his back had gone out, and the house was old, inherited from his father who he never cared to mention.

Once on the porch, Dean pushed up his sunglasses on top of his head revealing the greenest pair of eyes Castiel had ever seen in his life. His throat went dry and he just stared as Dean followed Bobby inside.

“You comin’ Cas?” his father called.

Castiel cleared his throat. “Yeah, coming.”

Ellen made too much food for the guest, claiming that he, and Castiel, were far too skinny. Dean would be staying in the attic which Ellen had started to turn into a bedroom/apartment, but stopped once Bobby hurt himself. It was meant for one of the kids, but Castiel didn’t want to stick around Sioux Falls, and Jo had been planning her escape since they were fifteen.

“It has a working bathroom,” she explained at dinner, passing around food. “Bed and a lamp. Sorry there’s a bunch of crap in the living room.”

“I told you I’d move it,” Bobby muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “Hat off at the table.”

He grumbled something else, but did as she requested. Castiel kept his eyes on his food so he wouldn’t be caught staring at Dean sitting right across from him.

~

For the first two weeks after Dean’s arrival, Castiel watched from the screened-in back porch, at him moving things across the yard and at Bobby teaching him things about engines and taking cars apart. Dean was good, better than him, almost better than Jo (not that Castiel would ever tell her that). Sometimes when Dean was out there working alone, he’d take off his t-shirt, his tanned skin glistening with sweat and Castiel thought he was going to pass out from the quick rush of his blood all heading to his groin.

Sometimes Dean would catch him and wave, and Castiel would shyly wave back, but pretend he was too busy with school work.

Ellen came out with a tray of ice tea. She sat it on the railing of the porch. “Don’t you want to work inside, darling?” She asked, running her fingers through Castiel’s thick hair.

He shrugged from her touch. “I’m fine out here.” It was hot as hell, he figured. Sitting there in shorts and a t-shirt and in the shade, he was sweating like a hog.

His mother chuckled, staring out in the open yard just like he was. “Oh I bet you are, hon.”

“Mom,” he sighed.

She kissed his head. “Take a break. Go give him one of those.”

Castiel hadn’t really said much to Dean other than polite conversation, he talked more to Jo than him and Bobby always asked about the family. Dean has two little brothers, one was about Castiel’s age, Sam, and Dean talked about him non-stop, and then there was one who was twelve named Adam, their half-brother. Smart as a whip, just like Sammy, Dean would say with a smile that looked more dad-like than an older brother.

“He’s busy.” Castiel shifted in the chair.

“Oh you’re just as bad as your father.” She smacked him in the back of the head.

“Ouch!”

She started to gather his papers.

“Mom!”

“No more school work for the rest of the month. Go out there and act like a normal kid for crying out loud.” She went inside with all of his books and papers, even his pencil. He sat there just glaring at the door like she was going to come back out and change her mind. But she didn’t. He heard the radio click on in the kitchen, loud. So he did as he was told, walked down the back steps with a glass of tea in each hand, towards Dean, shirtless and a glistening, trying to get a dented fender off the back of a totaled car.

Castiel cleared his throat. “Thirsty?” he said.

Dean stopped his motions and looked back. “Hell, yeah, thanks.” He took the glass from Castiel’s grasp.

“Mom made it.” He couldn’t look away from his feet.

“She’s a nice lady.”

“Yeah.”

Dean leaned against the trunk of the car gulp the tea, the ice clinking, and a bit of the tea dripped from his lips and down his chin and Castiel thought he was going to die. “You know anything about cars?”

He shrugged. “A little. Jo’s a lot better.”

“Yeah, she gives me a run for my money.” He grinned and started sucking on the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass. “What do you like then?"

“Reading. Taking pictures.” Last Christmas he’d been presented with a rather expensive, and old fashioned camera. He almost cried; he’d wanted it so badly.

“That’s cool.” They both drank. “So, how long were you plannin’ on NOT talking to me?”

Castiel almost choked on the tea. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not stupid. I see you lookin’.” He grinned. Castiel was going to die, he knew that now. He was going to explode from embarrassment and his poor mother would have to come out and clean up his guts from all the cars.

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered. What else could he say? Gawking like Dean was some gift just for him or something.

“Don’t be,” Dean said. “I’ve been lookin’ too.”

~

After dinner that night, Dean asked Castiel to go for a drive with him. Bobby and Ellen didn’t say no, Jo was already half-way out the door on the way to a friend’s house. So, Castiel agreed, a lump in his throat, and followed Dean out the back and to his car.

A 1967 Impala. It was as beautiful at night as it was during the day, slick paint job gleaming in the moonlight. Dean drove fast down the back roads, classic rock playing, the windows rolled down. A few miles away, Dean parked the car in an empty field. “This belong to anyone?” he asked.

“Mr. Peabody. But his house is about five miles straight back, he wouldn’t notice anyone parked here. He doesn’t really grow anything either. Has this idea involving pine trees.” Castiel shrugs.

Dean laughed. “That’s a good one.”

“So,” Castiel started, feeling stupid, but he couldn’t bear to sit there in silence. “Why are you working here this summer?”

“School. For my brothers. I mean, I’m doing okay, got a few grants and stuff, but not enough to keep me going. I give the student loans to them, try to pay for myself.”

“Doesn’t your dad work?”

“Sure,” Dean said, turning off the radio. “Kate too, but I wasn’t kidding about Adam being smart. He’s smarter than Sammy, has to go to a special school for gifted kids or something like that. That’s what’s pulling us down.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be,” Dean said. “They’re going’ places, he needs to be at that school.” He reached to the back of the car and pulled out a bottle of wine, strawberry, from Turner’s Vineyard outside of town.

“How’d you get that?”

“Smiled pretty for the lady at the register,” he laughed and popped the top, took a swig and then past it to Castiel. “Now what about you,” he said. “I mean, you don’t really seem to fit in with the rest of the family. I mean, you don’t look like them.”

Castiel took a long gulp from the bottle. The wine was bittersweet, just a hint of strawberry, but the fermented flavor of wine. It fizzed down his throat. “My birth mom was really messed up and she didn’t know who my dad was. She OD’ed or something when I was really little, I don’t even remember her face. I got put in the system.” He scratched his head and gulped some more. He’d never narrated the story out loud. No one ever asked. “I was six when I came here. Bobby and Ellen are my parents. And Jo is my sister.”

“Shit,” Dean said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. They love me like I’m their own and I’m happy.”

They drank the whole bottle in a span of two hours, just talking. Dean told Castiel about college, how in his freshman dorm, some douche nozzle dropped a cherry bomb in the communal toilets and the whole place got shut down for a week. His laugh was like a drug, his smile made Castiel swoon.

Castiel’s face was pink and he couldn’t stop giggling, or staring at Dean and Dean got quiet, somber. “I was gonna kiss you,” Dean said. “Back, earlier today. But your mom was watching us.”

Castiel laughed. “Are you afraid of my mom?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Well,” Castiel said, shifting on the seat, the leather creaking under him, and facing Dean. “She’s not here now.”

He didn’t even respond, just moved forward to kiss Castiel, open mouthed and with his tongue, lazily working its way into Castiel’s mouth. He got Castiel onto his back, and got those shorts off his body. “God, you’re hot,” Dean said, stroking down Castiel’s ribs and to his hips.

No one had ever called Castiel ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’, no one had ever paid him any attention, wanted to touch him, fuck him. And Dean wanted to fuck him, his erection rubbing against Castiel’s thigh, his breath tasting of wine and the five cigarettes he smoked on the drive over. 

It was kind of clumsy, their teeth clanked together, Castiel’s knee knocked into the steering wheel and they laughed. Dean fumbled with a condom, prepped Cas with spit-soaked finger. He didn’t say anything, but his hands were shaking, and Dean kept asking if it was okay, and Castiel knew that this was his first time too.

~

Castiel stopped his school work as requested. He sat out in the junk yard wearing shorts and sunglasses, watching Dean work and fetching water. They talked about school, Dean talked about his brothers.

On days Dean didn’t work, they drove down to the lake, sometimes with Jo, and swam for hours, then aired out on the dock.

One day, Jo caught them making out in the basement, the coldest part of the house. Castiel was half way up the stairs, face beet red and trying to will away his erection, when he heard Jo telling Dean, “If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”

He heard Dean answer, “I won’t.”

~

At the end of August, Dean and Castiel lay next to each other on Dean’s bed in the attic, whispering and holding hands. “I don’t want you to go,” Castiel confessed, his heart in his throat, the beating visible on his sleeve. That was always his problem, Jo told him. He gave up his feelings so easily, let everyone see, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

“Me either,” Dean answered. He rolled Castiel over to his back, wedged himself between his open thighs. “Won’t be gone forever,” he promised, kissing Castiel open mouthed, gripped his naked hips.

The bed squeaked with each thrust and Castiel was sure that his parents could hear, but he didn’t care. He never wanted the moment to end; he always wanted to know the sensation of Dean’s hands, of his mouth and tongue. The perfect arch of Dean’s back, the number of freckles on his face (that grew with each day out in the summer sun).

Castiel thought of saying, i love you, but he settled for biting down on Dean’s bottom lip when he came.

~

Dean tossed his bag into the back seat of his car. Castiel stood anxiously on the porch waiting for his parents and sister to say goodbye. Bobby paid him in full, handing him a folded wad of cash. Ellen hugged Dean and touched his face, telling him to come back the next summer, or anytime he wanted.

“That’s real nice of you, ma’am,” he answered.

Jo just waved. “Jesus, go say goodbye to him,” Jo said, practically shoving Castiel down the stairs. “Mom and Dad already know you two are fucking, no one’s going to care if you go kiss him.”

Castiel jerked away. “Shove off,” he muttered, walking down the creaking stairs and to the gravel driveway. Ellen heading back inside, pulling Bobby and Jo with her.

“So,” Dean said, kicking some stones.

“So.”

“Maybe I could come back for spring break, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here.” Dean pulled him into a tight embrace, arms around his scrawny shoulders. They didn’t talk about it much, but Dean was broken in a thousand different places, and Castiel was desperate to spend the rest of his life putting them back together.

They kissed and Castiel melted. Then Dean was gone, another quick peck on the lips and he was in his car, rock music blaring as he drove away, just like he did on his way in. Castiel watched from the porch until the car, and the dust it kicked up, were out of sight.

~

On Castiel’s first day of college at Kansas University, he was greeted by Dean, waiting outside the dorm with the car, and a whole case of Tuner Vineyard strawberry wine in the back seat.


End file.
